Save Me From the Night
by TheJennaWhoWrites
Summary: *OneShot* Dean has a bad dream and accidentally calls Cas- who demands to know what's wrong. Dean is stubborn, Cas is protective, and Sam is sarcastic -as always-. Pretty sucky, it's my first fic- so please rate and review but be nice c: Warnings: some swears, Destiel (don't like, don't read) and slight fluff. Also, the formatting got a bit messed up, trying to fix it.


Leaping up from the terrors of the night, Dean sat in the sweat pooled mattress. The off-white sheet stuck to his shaking form like all the damned memories to his head.  
Still shaken from his dream, Dean's weary subconscious took charge and used his raspy voice to pierce the silence with a cry for help.

"_Cas", _he whispered, cursing himself after realising what he did- '_Cas doesn't want to or need to _

_help us. The guy doesn't have the time for it either'._

Dean thought sadly to himself. However, it was all too late. The sound of wings rustling meant that once looking up, the 'holy tax accountant' would be there waiting across the room.

"Hello Dean", Cas said, dragging his feet across the musty carpet. "Is there a problem"

"Uh- Hey Cas. There really isn't anything wrong. Um, it was just kinda-", Dean began, only to be interrupted  
"Dean there is something very wrong… What happened?"

The hunter shook his head down towards his feet, smirked then chuckled. Looking back up, his eyes met blue and next the light pink, pillow lips that beckoned. '_Not gay_', Dean thought (and whether that was about himself or the angel, didn't matter).

"It's nothing, man, just go do your angelic shit, or whatever you do when we aren't bothering you…"

"Being with you never _bothers_ me, Dean… What is wrong? There must be a reason you called?"

While searching his eyes for an answer, Castiel sat down on the bed beside Dean's feet. In response to this, Dean was going to say something about the angel's space issues- but decided it would go in one ear and out the other.

"It was just a bad dream, Cas, don't know why I called, can't even remember it.", Dean lied as he rolled off the opposite side of the bed to go make some coffee. "You want some Joe, Cas?"

Confused by the reference, Cas walked to the kitchen to find what Dean was talking about.

"Are you not going back to sleep?" Cas replied, tilting his head inquisitively as Dean chuckled.

"No, Cas. Got my 3 hours- time to start a new day." he replied nodding out at the dusky sky through the window.

"Are you afraid that if you did, the night terrors would return?"

Dean chuckled again, dumping the beans into the filter, popping the lid back down, and starting the coffee.

"I'm not afraid of a _bad dream_, Cas." Dean laughed, grabbing a piece of bread from Sam's grocery bag  
"You seemed quite afraid when you first got up" the angel retorted  
"Forget it, Cas! I'm fine…" he snapped

Annoyed that Dean wasn't taking him seriously, Castiel stepped closer, emitting an air of ferocity that _almost_ made Dean turn around.

"Dean Winchester. You are not, and never have been _fine_. If you want to continue to lie to your brother about your mental health, I cannot stop you- but do not lie so openly and so plainly to me. You have _literally_ been to Hell and back, we do not expect you to okay, therefore you cannot expect us to sit in the dark. You do not have to tell me what is wrong but you can let me help you."

Dean now decided it would probably be a good time to turn around, only to glare the angel in the eye (for an almost discomforting amount of time), not faltering his gaze until issuing his response.

"Sure Cas, I had a bad dream. Yea, Cas, I'm a little freaked out. But it was a dream, human privilege. You can't poof them away just 'cus you don't like them."  
"…Actually, Dean, my 'mojo' would allow me to do just that…"

Agitated by Castiel's persistence, but still feeling bad for calling Cas and interrupting him, Dean declined  
the offer, disregarding how intriguing it sounded. Cas just staying, and not having to poof out …_Intriguing_… Dean shook the though from his head.

"Cas. I'm just going to stay up…"  
"You are being ridiculous and unnecessarily stubborn, Dean. 3 hours is not a sufficient amount of  
rest time for optimal human function. It is only 4 in the morning; therefore I must insist you go

back to bed for _at least_ another 3."  
"Fine Cas. Fuck it!" Dean barked; feeling bad once he did, but still storming away from his toast and  
towards the sagging box spring, falling onto it with a 'whoosh' and a 'creeek' as he adjusted himself.

Slightly hurt by the outburst, Cas remained beside the wall leading to the bedroom from the kitchen, waiting.

"You gunna lay down and do your angel mojo?" Dean asked expectantly.

Blushing madly, Castiel shuffled towards the empty side of the mattress "Uh, yea", he replied huskily

"You can just… sleep… no bad dreams will come. Um, do you need me to put you down?"  
"I'm not the family dog, Cas, you don't 'put me down'" Dean said as he put Cas' hand to his head, answering the question of whether Cas needed to or not.  
"Night, man" He said, slowly drifting as Cas let his hand fall to Deans shoulder.  
"Goodnight, Dean"

Dean winced as the hellfire which tinged the farthest reaches of his mind lit the darkness his closed eyelids had only briefly provided, but sighing happily as the flames were extinguished by the angel in his dirty trench coat.

Sam pushed the stained sheet and comforter off himself and shuffled out of the too small bed, yawning and ruffling his long locks. Turning his head and stopping (only for a moment) he saw Deans arms wrapped around a-very-much-awake Castiel's waist, and Cas who had his arm tucked protectively around the sleeping Dean's shoulder.

"Morning Cas." Sam said waving, and then moving that hand to scratch his stubbly chin.

Castiel smiled warmly back and looked over to the digital lock beside the bed. '_8:16, Dean has gotten a full 8 hours'_ he thought smiling and tightening his arm a bit around the sleeping man.

Continuing to walk past the bed, Sam entered the sunny kitchen; he grabbed a mug and the abandoned piece of toast, he poured himself a cuppa and sat down at the table. He chuckled

'_finally'._


End file.
